The images whirled through Zelda’s mind—Petar Tadić and his thugs finding Goran’s body and removing it, following the trail of the mysterious woman Goran had met in the hotel bar, trying to work out where the connection lay, who had got to Goran and why, suspecting everyone close to them who was not one of them. Somehow or other—perhaps through Keane—the trail had led to Faye, an outsider who had hung out with them, and they had wanted to know who she had talked to and what she had told them. Perhaps Faye had simply ignored her advice and told them about the woman who had come to the store asking about her ex-boyfriend, or perhaps they had tortured her to get the information. They enjoyed inflicting pain. Maybe the interrogation had excited them, maybe they thought she knew more than she was telling. Whatever the reason, they really went to work on her, torturing her, no doubt, until she ended up dead.

But how much had Faye been able to tell them, and how much had they been able to work out from what she had said? Had they put two and two together?

Goran Tadić hadn’t recognized Zelda, she was certain of that, but it didn’t mean his brother wouldn’t, no matter how much she thought her appearance had changed. Most likely Petar and his cronies would have gained access to the hotel’s security cameras and captured her image from there. One thing was for certain: no matter how they might do it, if they found out who she was, they weren’t going to go to the police. Perhaps they didn’t know where Zelda lived yet, but they would find out. It was only a matter of how long it would take them. How could she stay here and put the man she loved in danger? But how could she just leave him? Should she put her trust in Alan Banks and tell him everything she knew? She might end up in jail, but at least she would still be alive and Raymond would be safe. But would he be? She remembered what had happened to Emile in Paris. When people like the Tadićs took their revenge, they took it on what you loved most.

Raymond stumbled down from the bedroom rubbing his eyes and asking what time it was. Zelda threw her arms around his neck, told him how much she loved him and how glad she was that he was back home, then she buried her head in the soft curve between his neck and shoulder and started to cry.

About the Author

About the Author